We Grow Older Still
by AnEquivalentExchange
Summary: "Wh-who are you?" he asked. The white creature that called itself Truth smiled an inhumanly large and toothy grin. "I see you haven't learned from your father's mistake."
1. Chapter 1

_Humankind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. _

"You ready?"

She placed her hand down, her palm brushing against the basement's old stone floor; dirt and dust and chalk particles stuck to the sweaty skin of her fingers. Her eyes scanned the white outline drawn across the floor. Circles and strokes, symbols and ancient words had been written in white chalk with a steady hand.

She closed her eyes lightly then sucked in a deep breath of air. "Yes," she exhaled, reopening her eyes.

James looked over at sister, clearly hearing the anxiousness in her voice. "We don't have to do this, Sara, you know."

Sara paused, staring down at the transmutation circle already drawn on the floor before them. "No," she answered firmly. "I want to do this."

_To obtain, something of greater value must be lost. If you take ten, then add something of yourself, you return eleven._

James didn't need to answer; he knew they were both thinking the same thing. He wanted to do this too; he thought he _needed_ to do this. It was finally time to mend his folly. They had both been living with the guilt and the remorse and an utter feeling of desolateness, it was finally time to fix things. And things had been broken for a long time.

_That is alchemy's first law of additional exchange. _

"Okay. Let's do this. Everyone will be home soon."

Sara nodded once, and they placed their palms down on the chalk circle in unison.

The reaction began immediately. The circle came alive, glowing a beautiful cerulean where the chalk marks had been.

James smiled eagerly and glanced over at his sister. His heart was racing and he knew hers must have been too as she looked over at him with the same expression, blue eyes incandescent in the transmutation's glow.

Her expression faltered a moment later as the blue light of the transmutation quickly turned to a sharp violet. Sara frowned and her brow furrowed as she turned her gaze back to the circle.

"James," she said as tendrils of darkness rose from the circle's border, "i…is this supposed to happen?"

James opened his mouth to reassure his sister; even as a bad feeling began to grow in the pit of his stomach, surely years of research and dedication to this couldn't amount to a faulty transmutation. But as soon as the words began to leave his mouth, the floor split open and a giant eye appeared in the middle of the circle.

Sara reeled back, screaming as the eye opened and black hands slithered upward from the floor.

"Sara, are you—"

An even louder shrieked ripped form her throat. James looked to find his sister's hand missing, her skin cut off in jagged transmutation mark edges.

"What…what is happening?" he asked in awe. His chest was heaving as he stared down at her arm before finally diving for her.

Sara screamed again, her yell mixing with a call out to her brother for help. Her skin was breaking down where the tentacles touched her. She did her best to slap them away, but more came as she tried to fight them off. Her leg had already been broken down, patches of her cheek and arms were missing as well.

James reached out with his right hand. "Sara!"

"James!" Her shriek was incomprehensible. She reached her hand, struggling to move even as her body was deconstructed. "Help!"

"Sar—Sara!" He reached his hand out further, bracing himself for the black hands to begin covering him, suffocating him, breaking down his very being. "Take my hand!"

"James, please!"

She reached out as far as she could in the swarm of tendrils, and her fingertips just brushed against her brother's when there was a blinding flash of white light, and she was gone. And so was he.

* * *

James' heart was pounding, and his whole body shook to the point where he thought his knees would buckle and he would fall to the ground His mind was calm and yet addled; it was a feeling akin to being woken up by a loud noise, alert that something was wrong, yet still calm and unaware of the danger.

James' eyes traced over the blank and white space that extended around him on all sides. The solid white color was broken by one figure; James jumped when he noticed the thing in front of him.

"Wh-who are you?" he asked.

The white creature before him smiled an inhumanly large and toothy grin. "I see you haven't learned from your father's mistake."

James frowned, confused. His lips were just forming as question when the figure spoke up. "As for your other question, I have many names. I'm the world, the universe, God, and I am Truth. I am all, and I am one, and I am _you."_ It pointed its finger directly at James.

James took a step back, his mind racing. He had to get out of this place, wherever he was. He had to find Sara and—there was sound loud sound of scraping stone from behind.

James backpedaled, almost falling over as he quickly turned around to see a massive door, floating midair.

It was made of a dark stone, a treelike shape had been carved into its surface and between the branches, unreadable phrases and words had been carved into the stone.

The two doors opened at the middle, opening up into an abyss. James stared at the opening, stared at the eye, identical to the one in their transmutation circle, sitting in the middle of the darkness. Its pupil was grey and unseeing and ill-intending. James' gaze was broken as those same black hands shot out.

James turned on heel to run but he wasn't fast enough. He felt their snakelike hands wrapping around him for the first time, and that Truth creature stood, calming saying, "I guess you need to learn firsthand, what truth is."

"Ngh!" James yelled, fighting against the hands' hold, but it was futile. Their grips were like vises, tugging and pulling at his skin and hair and clothes. No matter how hard James struggled or planted his feet into the ground without purchase, he couldn't keep the hands from pulling him into the abyss.

"After all, this is what you wanted, wasn't it?" Truth said in its chilling voice before the doors slammed closed, shutting James into totally darkness.

* * *

James hadn't noticed he had been screaming until he was alone. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes as he felt himself flying through the darkness, dragged on by those strange tentacles.

He noticed a pinpoint of light far ahead. From it, pictures shot out, surrounding him in a tornado of blurred colors. They flew by in a flash, racing past James and back into the infinity that stretched all around him. But James saw them all. They were a blur before his eyes, but each one stuck in his mind.

He saw a snowy winter and a frozen-over river. He saw Sara being born. The Rockbell Automail sign standing outside their house. A Xingese wedding. A raven-haired man and blonde woman cloaked in blue. A funeral. An inauguration. His parents arguing, a wrench being thrown. Faces and names he had long forgotten flashed across James' vision. Not only that, but everything else and how they worked. The world, ecosystems, the human body, anything and everything he could ever learn was right there before his eyes, pouring into his mind until he thought he was about to die from the pressure of so much knowledge being forced into him.

So this was the truth. The truth about everything and everyone.

James heard his screams begin to fade as the scenes and knowledge did as well. They gave way to a bright light. A figure stood in the glow. For a moment, James thought it was that Truth creature, coming back to him, but no, this thing was different. It had the same featureless bleach white skin as Truth, but its figure was small, like that of a little girl. Her hair blew even if there was no wind, and slowly, gently she held out a hand.

_It can't be._

James smiled desperately, finally finding solace in this inescapable hell.

"Take my hand!" he yelled. "Lizzie! Please!" He reached out, willing his arm to stretch further. He was so close, _so close¸_ to her small fingertips. James had already lost Sara this way, he wasn't about to let it happen again. "Hurry! Take m—"

He felt an odd sensation in the middle of his forearm, and dared to look away from the young girl figure down to himself. He gasped, staring down at where his right hand had been. Now it was just a stump, the rest of his limb was unraveling before his eyes, leaving rough edges to his skin as he was alchemically unraveled.

"N-no! Th-this can't be happening! Stop!" He felt his whole body coming undone, and he was powerless to stop it.

James looked up to the figure as a last resort. "Lizzie! Please, help! I—I can't—" His words was cut off as the last of his body was unraveled, flaking away into the darkness, leaving nothing but an echoing cry for help.

* * *

The pure whiteness blinded James. He saw his hand, back to normal and completely unscathed, reaching out just as it had been. James let out a shuttered sigh, begging himself not to cry. He thought he was about to vomit. His hands traveled to his chest, his legs, his face, making sure his body was still intact. When his examination finished, James' fingers combed through his hair, pulling at it.

"Did you enjoy it?"

James whipped around and the Truth figure was back again, sitting in its usual spot. James noted that it didn't have the figure of a young girl, in fact it seemed to be identical in size and stature to himself.

He turned away from that white monster. "Get it together," James muttered to himself, tugging harder at his hair. His voice was shaking and his chest was heaving with a heavy heartbeat. "What is going on, what, what is happening to me?" His hands rubbed over his face before James turned back to his companion. "What _was_ that in there?" He gestured to the closed door floating behind him once again.

"Why, it was all the world's knowledge."

James paused, staring at the creature. Somehow he _knew_ that. He suddenly thought he knew everything. As if everything James had seen behind those doors had been retained in his mind. All of alchemy's questions seemed to be answered, theories became clearer, human transmutation seemed possible once again.

Before James could answer, Truth stood to face the boy. "Surely you should know that, considering the toll you've paid."

James stepped back as the creature neared. "Toll? I…I didn't pay a—"

But the faceless creature was gone, the white room had disappeared once again and James was suddenly back on the cold stone floor of his basement. The dirt and dust ground into his sweating cheek. He felt dizzy and the urge to vomit has only risen.

James was vaguely aware of the light appearing from behind him. He could hear a commotion, hear voices, some frantic, some stern, some screaming.

He was vaguely aware of one of the voices calling his name. There was a noise, traveling nearer. Footsteps.

"James?! James!"

"Where's Sara?!"

"James! Can you hear me?"

The voices drew nearer, stabbing at his mind, where a headache had already taken place.

There was a pressure on him, hands, frantically patting over his body.

"James, what happened?!"

The hands lifted him, shaking him slightly. He was aware of a soft hold cradling his weak body, and a voice yelling, "What did you _do?" _ before James passed out into oblivion.

* * *

**[A/N: Okay I'm gonna talk about this because this is pretty different from what I usually write, and I'll try to keep this short. (tbh it's not really that important you can actually probs skip this) But I got the idea for this when seeing how many parallels there were between Edward and Van Hohenheim, and therefore I wondered what it would be like if Ed's kids' lives paralleled, to an extent, Ed and Al's.**

**Of course I don't think, speaking canonly, that any of this would every happen, so I guess it's an AU? idk**

**I know this is sorta confusing, but please enjoy if you decide to continue reading!]**


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N: Queen of Narnia49, this is brotherhood based :)]**

* * *

For Edward Elric, there were good days. Days when the sun shone on his face and the smell of freshly baked apple pie reminded him that he was home. Days when his family and his happiness kept him rooted to the present, keeping his past far at bay.

And for Edward Elric, there were also bad days. When clouds covered the sky and a dreary rain fell incessantly. When his automail creaked with every movement and his scars felt stiff and achy. When it seemed he could do nothing as his fears and his past came back to life, smothering him while he could do nothing but let a wave of sorrow drown him.

Today was one of those days.

The moment he, Winry, and Alphonse had stepped into their quiet and deserted Resembool home, it was obvious that something was definitely wrong. And when he had found his son lying haphazardly on a human transmutation circle drawn on the their basement floor and his daughter nowhere to be found, Ed felt as if he hasn't progressed at all from the time he had found himself in front of a human transmutation circle.

He had stared into the eyes of _that thing_ once again, the thing that had haunted his nightmares for years, with its black and grotesque form, eyes unseeing and twisted arm reaching out for him.

Even through Winry's shrieking, Edward could hear Alphonse's gasp at the sight.

But no, this one was different. It wasn't the same monster, Ed told himself. That thing that he had thought for the longest time had been his mother was long gone.

This one had the same nightmare-enduring features, but it was small, hands not reaching out for anyone. Edward couldn't help but feel a touch of relief that the creature did not seem to be moving.

Alphonse was the first to calm down after the initial shock of the sight. He had always been the level headed one out the three, and Ed was thankful for that as his brother pulled out his alkahestry knives while he and Winry were still panicking.

Alphonse quickly healed James. There was no blood, no missing limbs, no signs of pain, but the extra precaution was comforting.

James seemed to be out cold. Unsure of what else to do, Ed carried his son into his bed and tucked him in after checking his body over once more and finding nothing wrong.

Winry sat down at James' bedside, tears quietly falling from her eye. She stared down at her son, gently rubbing her fingertips over his pale face.

Ed frowned grimly, placing a reassuring hand on his wife's hair before pulling her into a tight hug.

Winry clutched at his back, finally breaking down. "Why?" she whispered miserably. "Why did this have to happen? Why would they do this?"

Ed remained silent, smoothing a hand over her long blonde hair. "I don't know," he finally answered but if he were honest with himself, Ed had an inkling of what had drove his children to attempt the impossible.

They remained still for quiet sometime, until Alphonse, who had been watching for the doorway, cleared his throat. 'Ed," he spoke up timidly, not wanting to break up the moment.

Ed looked up, remembering that his brother was still there.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Alphonse gestured with his head to the hallway outside the room.

Ed nodded firmly and untangled himself from Winry's grip. He kissed her on the forehead once before join Alphonse.

As soon as Edward closed the door tightly behind him, Alphonse exclaimed in a loud whisper, "You never told them human transmutation was wrong?"

"Of course I did!" Ed suddenly whisper-shouted defensively. He crosses his arms hotly, his face turning red. "As soon as they began practicing alchemy I drilled it into their minds that human transmutation should never be under any circumstance be performed. I taught them that there would be no equivalent exchange when it came to transmuting a life."

"But you didn't tell them..._everything,"_ Alphonse said questioningly.

Ed frowned in deep thought, thinking of a way to bend his words, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't be a lie, but would be less severe than the actual truth. Finally, he blurted out, "You're right. I didn't tell them everything."

Alphonse opened his mouth to speak but Edward interrupted, answering his brother's question before Al could even speak. "Winry and I decided to wait. We wanted to wait until they were older to tell them _everything."_

"Until they were older? Brother, don't you realize what our lives were like when we were that young? When you were James' age, you had already joined the military. Think back," Al said, "Don't you think you would have understood had someone told you our entire story? Don't you think you would have heeded their warnings if you had known everything?"

Edward sighed, growing more frustrated by the second. "I understand, Al. But…" He was at a loss of words. The trauma of the day had taken away Ed's ability to think clearly, his mind was all over the place, and arguing with his brother now that all was said and done seemed counterproductive. Still, he found himself answering on the defense. "Sara is only eleven."

Al's voice was soft, but pointed. "I know we can't really compare ourselves to them, but you were elven too when everything began."

"I know, I know…" Ed scratched at the back of his neck, looking away.

"Brother…" Al sighed, not angrily, no that wasn't like Al. But the sudden turn of the evening's events had set him on edge. "You should have told them sooner. I know when I have a child, I'll tell him everything. There's no reason to be ashamed of what happened; it could only hurt them if you keep the truth from them."

Ed turned away slightly, kicking his toe at the door frame. "It's a little late for that now, Al," he muttered peevishly. He just wanted to protect his children, the way he always wanted to protect those he loved.

The right time to tell them his and Al's story never seemed to reveal itself, so he found himself putting it off time and time again. He told himself that was just as well; telling them everything would have given them a different view of the world. It would have shown them how merciless the world can be for seemingly no reason, it would have scared them, made them see him different.

Surely, there were things he couldn't hide from them, like his automail leg or the fact that they had no grandparents, but Ed always easily gave them a generic brush-off sort of answer, or, on his more irritable days, an _"I'll tell you when you're older."_

But it seemed Ed was still learning just how unreasonably cruel of a world this was. He was just trying to protect his kids, and this was the result. The world had given his a severe backlash, just for trying to be a good parent, trying to give his kids a carefree childhood that he and Al never got.

"You should tell him, Ed. Everything."

Ed looked up. His brother's golden eyes were hard, but they held with sincerity and sadness. Ed nodded and swiftly turned around, gripping the doorknob in his hand.

Winry was still kneeling at James' beside, brushing her son's hair away from his face with soothing motions of her fingers. Her lips seemed to be moving, murmuring soft words, and Ed could see that James' eyes were opened, if only slightly.

Winry looked up once Ed stepped in, closing the door behind himself. Winry stood and as she moved closer, Ed could see the tear tracks dried on her cheeks. She buried her face into his shoulder, gripping him around the middle.

"Just tell me everything is going to be okay," she whispered into his shirtfront. But Winry had seen enough hell in her lifetime. Losing both her parents before she was even ten, almost losing her best friends as well, facing Scar, becoming a hostage, and even falling victim to the homunculi's plans on the Promised Day, if one for a little while. But no matter how hard things get, hope is still there. Hope was a beautiful lie, and sometimes that was all they had. Edward knew that well.

He leaned his head against hers, quietly saying "We'll find a way to fix this" into her hair.

Winry nodded before detaching herself from Ed. She grabbed at his hand, lightly entangling her fingers with his, and looked back at James.

"It's time we told him," Ed whispered. "It's the only way we can move forward."

"Of course," she answered back in a hushed tone.

James' gaze was dull, lightless, as he watched his parents sit beside his bed. Winry rested her head against Ed's shoulder as he took in a long breath.

"James," he sighed. "I have a story to tell you."

* * *

James had recovered entirely from his lightheadedness almost entirely by the time he awoke in his own bed. But now his head spun in circles, his father's words echoing and swirling in his mind.

It made such sense. _So much sense._ His father's story may have seemed ridiculous to anyone else, borderline unbelievable to some, but to James, it suddenly made everything click into place. He saw his father, his whole family, with a new sense of clarity.

And _that_ was why his father had an automail leg, and _that_ was why he had so many scars across his body. _That_ was why James couldn't imagine his grandparents' faces, just gravemarkers with names and dates etched into stone. _That _was why his family seemed to be so close with the higher ups of both Amestris _and_ Xing. _And_ it was why Uncle Al never seemed to take anything for granted, always smiling when he got caught in a downpour, or how his father always let him take the last slice of apple pie, or why he would always sincerely tell James and Sara that it was the small things in life that mattered.

Because they had done it too. His father and his uncle, had tried to defy the laws of alchemy. They had tried to cheat death, they had tried to bring another human back to life.

So he and Sara weren't the only ones desperate enough.

In a way, it comforted James to know. He and Sara weren't the only ones to make this mistake, but it could in no way make this situation any better. Sara was still gone. She could be dead for all he knew—but James was still in shock, there was no way he was accepting his littler sister's death so quickly, not this easily. He could have stopped this, but he didn't. So he would find a way to make it right.

James realized both his parents had fallen into a silence. They sat together, raptly watching James, waiting for him to react, to say something, anything.

James opened his mouth to speak but the words wouldn't come. He tried again, forcing the words out but he suddenly couldn't remember how to speak.

His father was the first to notice. His eyes squinted and he frowned. "What's wrong?"

And James tried to answer, he used all his might to get just one word out, but he just _couldn't speak._

"James?" his mother asked, her voice raising an octave with oncoming worry. "Say something. Are you hurt?" She reached over, feeling his forehead, examine his face for any signs of pain.

James shook his head, vigorously using his hands to try and convey the words he meant. He was growing more panicked than he wanted to show. What was going on? Was this his punishment? Was this really the Truth?

Ed seemed to come to that conclusion as soon as his son did. He leaned back, surprised, with a look of disbelief on his face. He place a hand on Winry's shoulder calmly. "He tired human transmutation. Of course Truth would have taken something—"

"But Al said he was fine!"

"Al was telling the truth. There was nothing his alkahestry could have fixed because physically, James wasn't harmed. But it's not possible to perform human transmutation without paying a toll. I should've known something must have been taken…but I was just hoping, maybe there had been a loophole…" His voice drifted off.

James had halted his movements when his father had begun to speak. The Truth had taken his voice? _Really?_ Of all things, that seemed ridiculous. According to his father's story, the Truth took something important as toll, something to punish humans who tried to play God. And he had lost his _voice?_

While James couldn't be more relieved that it was something that minor, still he couldn't believe the unfairness of it all. Sara was gone. _She_ was taken by the Truth, maybe the way Uncle Al had been. And his father had lost his leg, and then his arm, to the Truth.

So why, James asked himself, why take his ability to speak?

* * *

"What are we going to do?"

Ed rested his forehead against his and Winry's entwined fingers. "I don't know." His eyes traced the grain of the wooden table aimlessly. "What _can_ we do?"

"You sound like your giving up," Winry said, her voice edgy.

Ed sat up. "Of course I'm not," he shot back. "But there's not a lot we can do considering how little we know."

"Well then let's figure something out with what we _do_ know! Edward, we are _not_ just going to sit back, not when my son is hurt and God knows what happened to Sara!" Winry couldn't say it; she couldn't voice her worst worries about what had happened to her daughter.

"I'm going to do what I can! They're my kids too, Winry—"

"Uh—" Alphonse interrupted, hoping Ed and Winry would quiet down now that James had fallen back to sleep. They were all the way in the kitchen now, but it was half past midnight and shouting seemed more unnecessary and counterproductive than usual.

"You and Al are the only ones here that know so much alchemy—what is there that we can do?"

Ed exhaled, leaning his elbow on the table and rubbing his temple hard. "You know," he began quietly, "I'd hate to say this, but we don't have many options." He looked up at Al, possibly gauging his brother's expression before stating, "The philosopher's stone."

Al gasped. "But, Brother—"

"Desperate times call for desperate measures, Al."

"I understand but—"

"We both know that you and I have _both_ used one before. A-and if we found one _somehow_ made with souls that no longer have bodies to return to, then they're really just energy, right?"

"That's if you only look at the cold logic of it," Al muttered.

"I know we said we wouldn't use one to get our own bodies back, it was our mistake after all, but I can't just sit back idle, not when it was my kids that got hurt."

Alphonse's expression grew even more serious. He nodded once in submission.

"That may be the only way we can get Sara back as well."

Al looked up. "But…" He paused, deciding his words carefully. "How do you know…how do you know she's still alive, still on the other side?"

Edward's face turned grim. "I don't. This is just a guess but it's the only hope we've got." He took a deep breath and continued when no one responded. "That, that _thing_ they transmuted, it didn't seem to have moved at all, not the way ours did since your soul had bonded to it, if only for a few seconds. It seemed your soul latched onto the only living thing in the room besides me. If Sara's soul didn't then that means that maybe her body is still with her soul. She's nowhere to be found, and I know this is a far stretch, but what if the Truth took her entire being?"

"You really think that, Ed?" Winry asked quietly, a hope rising in her eyes.

"Brother, that's crazy…" Al said. "Even if that was what happened, there's no way to transmute a body that no longer has attachments to this world."

"But I got you back, Al. Once your soul was back in your body, you were briefly entirely in the Portal. So we just have to get in there and pull Sara back out. I reckon it's not possible for a person to live very long in there, so we have to get her back as soon as possible." Ed stood and Alphonse mimicked his brother's action.

"I'll go with you, Brother."

"What about James?" Winry asked.

Ed closed his eyes and inhaled, before saying, "I think he should come too. You stay here. You have your automail business to take care of. And if anything develops, we need someone to be here."

"You think I'm just going to let you take our son some dangerous adventure?"

"He _has_ to. This was his doing, Winry. And he got hurt too. There might be a way to get back what was taken from him too."

Winry frowned deeply; her left eye twitched as she stared her husband down unhappily. She knew he was right, but that didn't mean she had to like it. "Call me every day you're gone," she finally said.

"Of course."

Winry turned to her brother-in-law. "Al, make sure he calls me."

"Uh, right," Al answered, flustered that he had suddenly been brought into he conversation.

"_Twice."_

"Yes, ma'am."

"C'mon, Al, let's get going," Ed interrupted.

"You're leaving right now?" Winry asked.

"We don't have time to waste." He quickly kissed her on the cheek. "You go wake up James. I'll go pack, and, Al, you get us some train tickets." He turned for the door when Al's voice stopped him.

"Sure, Brother, but where exactly are we going to?"

"To Central." Ed smiled, ironically. "There's someone who might know where to find what we're looking for."


	3. Chapter 3

The office was quiet. It was _always_ quiet between executive meetings and important phone calls. Between the scribbling of pen on paper, the shuffling of documents and the occasional creak from the old chair, there was nothing but a silence that reminded the president that he was alone in his room.

A knock at the door broke up the uniformity as he sat behind his desk, signing papers.

He cleared his throat before calling, "Who is it?" His naturally baritone voice was booming in the quiet.

The large door creaked open and a young, mousy secretary in a military blue pencil skirt stepped in. She bowed slightly then said, "Your Excellency, there are people here who say it is urgent that they talk to you now. They called themselves the Elrics."

That made him pause in thought. Once he had regained his composure, curiosity got the better of him and the president quickly order, "Let them in."

"Yessir."

The secretary quickly left and not a moment later, Edward Elric came striding, his brother and son followed close behind, though it seemed their usual spirit was missing today. A sort of uneasiness seemed to take its place.

The president dropped his pen and rested his elbows on the desk, placing his chin atop his entwined fingers. "Haven't seen you in a while." He smiled slyly before adding, "Fullmetal."

He glanced up when he realized he had gotten no response. The three Elrics had anxious expressions on their near identical faces, ranging from hopelessness to desperate frustration. "What's wrong?" he asked, suddenly aware that this situation was much more serious than he had originally thought.

"It's happening again," Ed blurted.

President Mustang frowned, his face twisting with confusion. "What is?"

Ed threw his hands up in frustration. _"Everything."_

"I don't—"

Edward stopped before the desk, in the spot he had stood in so many times before during his youth. "Look," he snapped, "you're the last person I want to ask for help, but there's no one else I can turn to about this."

Alphonse walked up to Ed's shoulder, holding out his palms. "He doesn't mean that, sir."

Ed placed his palms down on the desk, and Mustang pulled back at the sudden proximity. "We need to know where we can find a Philosopher's Stone," Ed said, keeping his voice to a strained hiss.

President Mustang's shoulders visibly slumped and his face fell into a frown. His eyebrows furrowed, unamused. "Is this some kind of joke, Fullmetal?"

Ed snorted. "As much as I wish it was—"

"—We're serious," Al finished, voice just as desperate as his brother's.

Mustang sighed, surveying their faces for sincerity. But the Elrics seemed to wear their hearts on their sleeves and right now it was obvious in their golden eyes that they were deeply in trouble. Why else would Ed come to him for help, had he no other options? The president sighed, motioning to the chairs. "Take a seat. Tell me exactly what happened."

* * *

Mustang stared down at the Elrics long after they had finished talking. The three sat there facing him, eyes down cast, body language uncomfortable.

It hadn't taken long to explain it all. And Ed was right when he said _everything_ was happening again. The new generation had made the former's mistakes as well.

It irked the president more than saddened him to see this happening once again. That human transmutation had to ruin the lives of more people too caught up in their abilities to see the danger of the taboo. He had always thought that after the Promised Day, once the Elrics had restored their bodies, that he wouldn't have to worry about such things anymore.

But to his everlasting credit, Mustang remained silent as Edward and Alphonse recounted the story, while James sat quietly between the two, sometimes looking up somberly or biting at his quivering lip.

It was only after they had finished, did the president find himself replying with a snarky response. "After all you and your brother went through, I thought you'd never find yourself with this problem again."

The implication was subtle, but it was there, and Ed picked up on it immediately. And by the look on Alphonse's face, it was obvious he had already had this conversation. "I made it clear that human transmutation was wrong," Ed shot back, and James looked up nervously with a deep frown. "I should have told them earlier about what had happened. I made a mistake, okay? Now Sara and James have to pay for it. So we need the stone. We don't have any other choice."

The president occupied his gaze by shuffling a stack of already neat papers on his desk. "I always thought you were against the use of the stone."

Ed stood. "I am. This doesn't change anything. But it seems to be our only hope of saving Sara, and getting James' voice back."

"Settle down, Fullmetal."

Much to Ed's dislike, he flopped back down into the chair.

"There's not much I can do to help you. Philosopher's Stone creation has decreased significantly since the Promised Day and the fall of the homunculi."

"But—" Al began.

"Are you serious?" Ed yelled.

Mustang remained calm. "I'm sorry, Ed. This won't be easy on any of you, though I'm sure you already knew that."

Ed looked down pointedly, his hands tensing into fists on his thighs.

President Mustang turned away, pulling a piece of paper from one of the desk's drawers. "But," he said, beginning to write on the paper. "There are rumors of someone trying to recreate the stone in a small town called Wellesley. I was going to have some men go and investigate it soon, but I guess you can give it a shot." He smiled dryly. "Unless you're too rusty to handle it."

"You've gotta be kidding. I'm still younger than you," Ed smiled, the hope back in his voice. He stood and walked to Mustang's desk, grabbing the paper from man's hand. "So where is this town?"

"Out West," Mustang answered, pointing his pen in the general direction. "Not too far south from West City."

Ed's face dropped. "West City? How long is it going to take to get us there?"

Mustang shrugged. "Not too long. There's a train leaving tomorrow morning. If you take that, you should be to Wellesley by tomorrow night."

Ed sighed. "Right. Okay." He turned away. "Thanks. C'mon, we should find a place to stay tonight and wait for our train."

Al and James stood in unison, followed then by the president. "Now, hold on. Why don't you stay at my place for the night? It'll save you the hassle and you'll need to save your energy. You may be younger than me, Fullmetal, but you're not as young as you used to be."

Ed decided to let that one slide. Instead he smiled. "Fine," he said. "Just don't do me anymore favors. I'm still in debt to you."

* * *

Both Edward and Alphonse had been to the presidential estate many times, even when the former ruler, King Bradley was still in power, but even more so now that President Mustang was in control.

This was also not James' first time at the estate. It had been years since he had been here, but he still remembered the long walkway, the high ceilings, the grand staircases, and the lavish guests rooms, one of which he was sent to almost immediately after supper, told that the adults needed to talk in private.

The impressive bedroom only kept James occupied for a short while before he found himself curled up on the large bed, knees tucked in under his chin, staring desolately around at the flower paintings hanging from the walls.

The beautiful decor could do nothing to brighten James' mood. It did nothing to drive his thoughts from his sister. James was certain the adults were talking about both of them.

Which only left one thing to do. James slowly got up, careful of the creaking wood floor. He shuffled his way down the vast hallway, sliding along quietly on his socked feet.

The President's mansion was impeccably large, but James knew it well. He was nature navigator, and his memory of the place was still crystal clear, as if the years he had gone without visiting hadn't even happened.

He came to a sudden halt when he heard voices. He pressed his back lightly to the wall and slowly tiptoed to the open door of the study.

An orange glow as the fireplace crackled was visible, its light spilling out into the otherwise dark hallway.

"Are you sure?" President Mustang's wife had spoken. James always just referred to her as Ms. Riza though.

She had been happy to see him when they first arrived; she was normally calm and placid, but her face had broken into a large smile at the sight of James. She pulled him into a hug, telling him how old he had gotten. The whole encounter made James uneasy, but he forced a pleasant smile, and let himself be hugged anyway. She seemed tired, fatigued even, but still she was pleasantly surprised when the Elrics came to the door, asking them about their lives over dinner.

Being in the president's estate, hearing such pleasant small talk over dinner, it had made it hard for James to feel hungry and force his food down. He had been somewhat happy when he had been immediately asked to go to his room, but now his hunger was finally catching up to James.

His stomach complained as he stood there, listening to the voices on the other side of the wall, squeezing his eyes shut in hopes that no one had heard.

It seemed they didn't. Ms. Riza's sad and surprised question was answered by his father. "I'm sure of it," he answered, voice low and hollow. "From what Al and I were able to figure out, it all makes sense. We haven't talked to James about it, even without his voice, I don't want to bring it up to ask him. Not yet anyway. I'm sure he's still in shock, I know we were. He'll talk to us about it when he's ready."

"But didn't they know…?" she asked.

Edward exhaled a long, exhausted sigh. "No matter how many times I told them human transmutation was wrong, they still didn't listen."

There was the clanking of a tea cup being placed down on a saucer Uncle Al spoke up. "It's not much different from us, really. Our teacher told us trying to bring a human back to life was wrong, and not even her words were enough to scare us out of trying to bring our mother back."

"I just want to try and fix this as soon as we can, so they can get on with their lives. I don't want them going through five years of hell like we did, Al."

James swallowed. Five years? He thought this would take one, two days, he'd get Sara back and they'd learn from their mistake, but they'd get on with their lives after this hitch.

Yes, he had always known human transmutation was wrong, he knew now _why_ that was said. He knew not to try it again, he had learned that the hard way. He'd never try it again, he knew. Especially not after what had happened to Sara. He just wanted to get his sister back and move on as soon as possible.

But what if it took longer than that? What if it took _years?_ What if he was stuck with no voice for the rest of his life even? And Sara. There was no way, if his father's theory was right, that Sara could survive more than a few weeks at most while stuck in the portal.

Without even realizing, James had turned silently on his heel and began plodding down the hallway, ignoring the rest of the conversation. He walked back to his room in a stunned silence.

Thinking proved to only make things worse. The more he thought, the more he worried. The more he worried, the more he was certain his mistake had cost Sara her life, and they would _never_ go back to their normal lives.

And that sort of thinking would get him nowhere.

His legs bumped into the edge of his bed and James let himself flop down belly first onto the mattress, forcing all thoughts from his mind, and falling into a trouble sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

James wasn't sure if it was the stomping of hurrying feet or the sound of his door swinging open that had awakened him. But suddenly he was staring into his father's wild gold eyes as he stood at the threshold. His stomach was partially exposed due to an unevenly buttoned shirt as he stood leaning against the door frame, and his hair was coming loose from its hastily done ponytail.

James barely had time to mouth the word _What—, _momentarily forgetting he had no voice, when his father yelled, "We overslept! The train's leaving soon. Hurry and get dressed." He turned away from James without a response, yelling, "Aw, dammit," before beginning to fix his shirt and running back down the hallway.

* * *

"There it is! Hurry!" The air was thick as the smoke was emitted from the train's chimney and from beneath the giant locomotive.

A whistle blared, piercing the midmorning air and silencing all conversation. Once the sound died down, James returned to focusing on the rhythmic pounding sound his shoes made as he ran down the platform.

The train was in sight and soon his father was shoving people out of their way, muttering out a gruff "'Scuse me," and trying to make a path.

Not a moment later, there was a sound of release and the train slowly began to pull away, chugging as it moved down the tracks, toward the station's exit.

"No! Damn!" Edward pushed harder, running faster even if his attempts were futile. He ran to the edge of the platform just as the last of the train passed by.

Alphonse and James caught up a second later, stopping at the cement lip of the platform.

Edward kicked out suddenly, striking at the air as if there was an invisible foe. "Dammit," he yelled.

"It's not use, Brother," Alphonse said between breaths, resting his hands against his knees and hanging his head. "We never would have caught that."

Ed turned, the tails of his coat flaring out as he glanced at his brother. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Alphonse straightened up. "We'll just have to wait for the next train."

James silently turned away and watched as a station worker turned, overhearing the conversation. "Sorry, fellas, but that was the last train to Wellesley for about a week."

"_What?" _

James jumped at the shrillness of his father's voice. His face was flushing red and his left eyelid twitched. "Well, what—when—"

"The next train to be leaving for Wellesley will be from the Yoewap station."

Ed's face contorted in confusion. "Yoewap?"

"It's a town not too far from here. If you can find a way to get there, I believe the next train is leaving in three days."

"_Three days?"_ Now Ed just looked ready to throw the worker onto the tracks. Or maybe ready to build his own locomotive and get there his own way.

"Wellesley is a small town. Not many people have reason to go there so the trains—"

"Uugh," Ed grunted, turning on his heel. "C'mon, Al, James, we've got another train to catch."

Al hop-stepped to his brother's side. "That's in three days! What do you…how are we even going to get there?"

"We're walking."

Alphonse slowed. "Walking?"

"We don't have much choice." Ed turned back, glancing at his family for acceptance.

James nodded firmly. Anything was better than just sitting around, doing nothing but waiting for another train.

Alphonse sucked in a sigh. "Fine," he said defeated. They headed toward the exit of the station when he spoke up once more, speaking to himself, "I was supposed to be heading back to Xing tomorrow. Guess I don't need that train ticket now."

"You can still go, Al. James and I can take it from here."

Al smiled ridiculously. "You really think I'd just leave, Brother? I'm seeing this through to the end no matter what."

Edward stopped and turned around. He smiled more pleasantly than anyone would have thought possible just a few minutes ago. "Thanks, Al."

* * *

The Elric men made good timing on their unexpected journey. They walked for hours, finally making it out of Central and into unmarked territory of large expanses of grassy land and occasional gatherings of trees.

They finally decided to rest once the sun was sitting atop the horizon.

James quite literally plopped down the moment they began to set up camp. He wondered if his father and uncle were as exhausted as him, even if they didn't show it. From what his father had told him, both he and Uncle Al had spent years traveling, if not by train then by foot, walking through deserts and cities and abandoned towns.

This seemed like nothing compared to that, but James was not cut out for that sort of life. He was already homesick for the rolling hills of quiet Resembool.

He pulled off his shoes finally during the downtime that had come after a meager dinner had been finished, and inspected the blisters on his feet.

Alphonse crouched down in front of him a moment later; James hadn't even seen him approach. He pulled out his Alkahestry knives and drew an array around James' feet.

James stilled and watched his uncle, curious.

Alphonse placed his hands in the center and the drawing scratched into the dirt began to glow the familiar blue that meant Alkahestry. Small bolts of lightning shot from the array and danced across James' feet, completely healing the blisters.

"A neat trick I learned when I crossed the desert to Xing," Al said once the light had dimmed away. He began pulling the knives back out and added with a chuckle, "I don't get a lot of use out of it now that they've set up the railways." He gave James a genuine smile and James couldn't help but smile back in appreciation.

Alphonse put his knives away and lied down slowly until his back rested against the earth. He bent his arms under his head and gazed up at the sky with a contended sigh, closing his eyes after a satisfied look at the stars. "Reminds me of when we were younger, huh, Brother?" he said to Ed, who had scooted over to his brother's side. "Like that one time you lost your pocket watch and we got kicked out of town because no one believed you were a state alchemist." Alphonse chuckled.

"Yeah, we ended up staying outside that night. I even fell asleep on top of you."

Alphonse smirked. "That couldn't have been comfortable, Brother."

"Sure wasn't." Ed laid his head down across his brother's stomach and closed his eyes. "You're much more comfortable now, Al."

Alphonse smiled. "Glad to hear that." His eyes peeked open after a moment of silence to find James still sitting there, watching timidly, not wanting to intrude as his father and uncle walked down memory lane. Alphonse smile widened and he gestured with his head. "C'mon, James, join us."

James' lips quirked into a small smile. After a moment of hesitation, he crawled over and rested his head across his father's abdomen, the only thing so far from civilization that even remotely came close to a pillow.

It was shocking, really, how quickly James fell asleep that night.


	5. Chapter 5

The silence that came once the thick door had slammed shut was penetrating. She could almost feel the lack noise within her ears.

Sara was unaware of how much time had passed. One minute, her and James had been in their father's study, the next, she was spiraling through a portal, images and memories flashing through her mind, and she had ended up here, in this white, barren limbo.

It could have been minutes. For all she knew, her mind had been playing tricks on her and Sara had only been sitting there for a short amount of time.

She knew that thought was only there to kid herself. Her honey-blonde, wavy hair she had inherited from her namesake was growing messy and dirty even if this place held no filth. Her stomach had been complaining for food for a long time, and Sara's body was beginning to feel weak and shaky.

But she tried to not let her physical ailments deter her from thoughts of her only hope of escaping this place. She wouldn't lose faith in her brother. He would come through; he always had before. That is, if he was still alive and unimpaired.

She had no idea how long she had sat in that void, which was empty save for a floating, dark marble door, and an odd creature, whose skin matched the setting around them.

Sara had been terrified initially. Unaware of where she was, and not seeing a way out, Sara was confused and lost. But when she saw that creature sitting before her once again, a wave of dread rushed through her.

"Where am I?" she asked, taking a defiant step forward. Gesturing to the gate behind her with a sloppy flop of her hand, Sara asked, "And what was that? What did I just _see?"_

"Oh, are you not pleased?" The levity in its voice shook Sara. "That was all the world's knowledge you received for your toll."

Sara's chin dipped in confusion. "Toll?" She didn't remember paying anything. "I didn't pay a toll."

"Of course you did." The creature's blank face split into a wide grin as it pointed directly at Sara. "It's you."

Sara felt herself step back, only stopping when she bumped into the thick door that floated gently behind her. The surface was cold, the engravings left ghost imprints on her skin. "Me? What…what do you mean?"

"You and your brother tried to play God, didn't you? You tried to defy the rules of alchemy and bring a human back to life. For that you must be punished, you must pay a toll."

Sara's lips turned into a pout as her feature's hardened with understanding. "But why, why am _I_ my toll?"

"You haven't realized yet? That's because it should have been you."

She felt her lips part and pull in a sudden intake of air. "I know," she blurted, breathing out. Her shoulders slumped with the relief of someone else finally saying it. Even if she had no idea who this creature was, Truth or one or all or whatever it called itself, Sara had been driving herself insane, knowing if she voiced her thoughts out loud they would quickly, kindly be refuted. But she knew the truth; inside, Sara always knew she should have died. It should have been her a long, long time ago.

And yet it wasn't. She was still here, living, breathing, albeit trapped in some odd limbo now, but still totally and completely alive.

Sara turned her face away from Truth. Just because what it said was true, it didn't mean she had to be happy about it.

Her gaze snapped up not a moment later, her blue eyes ablaze once more. "Wait," she exclaimed. "You said both James and I had to pay a toll. But, but James isn't here. Where's James? What happened to my brother?"

"He paid a different toll. Don't worry, I'm sure he's still alive."

Sara huffed at the white figure's apparent glee in saying that statement.

James was alright, he _had_ to be. Sara believed he was. And if his toll was different than hers, he wasn't trapped in here, then he was most likely back in the real world. He could get help. She had to have faith that he would come back for her.

But that didn't mean she could just give up and wait.

Sara's fingers ran across the hard surface of the door. Her fingertips brushed the foreign words and vine-like engravings before slipping into the thin crack where the two doors met together to form one. She slid her fingertips in as far as they would go, pulling in opposite directions, until her pads turned white under the pressure.

"It's useless," the Truth creature voiced behind her, its voice slightly amused as it watched her.

"No," Sara spat. She turned around, giving Truth a penetrating gaze; she had inherited her eyes from her mother, but that determined glare was all her father's.

She clapped her hands and the loud sound didn't even echo in this endless expanse. Sara slammed her palms against the door's surface, eyes shut tight. They reopened when nothing happened; not even the slightest spark of alchemy appeared.

She needed to draw an array, that must have been it. But for some reason, it felt instinctual to just clap her hands and transmute.

Sara glanced around, looking feebly for a piece of chalk that she knew she wouldn't find. She scraped her fingernail against the marble, trying to see if it was possible to scratch an array into the surface, but the stone remained unscathed.

"Dammit!" she yelled, giving the door a punch.

"It's no use."

Sara ignored the voice over her shoulder. She placed her forehead to the door's surface, hopelessly, nursing her hand after it had connected with the hard stone.

There had to be a way out. _There had to be._ If she had gotten herself in here, there had to be a way to get back out. But a quick sweep of the landscape told her differently.

She pressed her back against the door and slid down, eventually letting herself fall unceremoniously onto the floor.

Thus began what seemed like the longest period of Sara's life. It was the same white a desolate landscape every single second of every minute. The odd creature did not speak now as long as Sara didn't. It had no eyes, only an eerily happy smile, but Sara could tell it watched her.

Sara found herself thinking of James. He was her last hope now. He would know to come back for her, right?

"He'll come," she whispered to herself, hoping the Truth wouldn't intrude on her musings with an unhelpful comment.

It seemed like it had been days since she had first uttered those words. Her inital terror of this place had turned to an an apathetic sense of rebellion against the universe for being this cruel. Still, she sat there as patiently as she could, muttering her mantra, clinging to that one last hope. "I know he will."


	6. Chapter 6

The sky was grey, bordering on white. The snow had been falling in torrents for days, leaving Resembool with an unprecedented amount of snow. The white fluff piled high across the town's many hills and rooftops, and the branches of trees bowed under the weight of the freshly fallen snow.

In all his seven years, James had never seen snow quite like this. He had awoken that morning and immediately pulled back the curtains to take in the scene. The snow had finally stopped and he had a clear view of what the storm had left in its wake. James jumped out of bed, taking the stairs down two at a time in his excitement.

Now he, Sara and Elizabeth knelt on the hardwood floor of the Elric's living room, hands on the sill and noses pressed against the cold window, which had fogged up from the heat generated from the fireplace. James wiped it away with the hem of his sleeve only to have it fog up once again as he breathed on the glass.

Elizabeth and her parents had been visiting for the week. He father had just recently been made Fuhrer President and the Mustangs rarely got to relax as a family. Why they would choose to come to a quaint town like Resembool was beyond James. They had spent the time visiting with his parents, who seemed to know them well. It never really crossed James' mind why his father was so close with such official people. He always supposed it was because of all the alchemical research his father was known for, even if he didn't practice in the art himself.

"Oh, the snow finally stopped."

The three turned and James found his mother leaning against the door frame, a smile on her face.

Sara was the first to jump up. "Can we go play in it, Mommy, please?

"Yeah!" Lizzie jumped up next, small fists clenched tight in excitement.

Winry chuckled. "Okay. Elizabeth, ask your parents first. And dress warmly you three," she said pointedly.

They all agreed before making a run for the stairs.

* * *

The cold wasn't as much fun as James thought it would be. Maybe he hadn't put on enough layers, he mused to himself. The coldness bit at his exposed cheeks and his nose had begun running not long after they had left home.

He walked behind Lizzie and Sara who were chattering excitedly about what to do first. James shoved his sweaty and gloved hands deep into his pockets, and burrowed his nose into his thick red scarf.

"Oh!" Sara yelled, clapping her hands excitedly together. She whipped around. "James! Let's show Lizzie the trick Uncle Al taught us when he came to visit last winter."

As James struggled to remember just what the trick was, Sara knelt down in the snow and grabbed a nearby stick. She drew a simple diagram in the snow and placed her hands on the array. There was a flash of blue light and the snow began to move, forming a lumpy figure that towered above their heads.

"Wow!" Lizzie yelled with a gasp. With a wide smile that showed off her missing front tooth, she craned her neck to see the very top of the smiling snowman. Sara stood, looking up proudly at her work, with her hands on her hips and a smug look on her face.

"Yeah?" James said with a chuckle. "Two can play at that game!" He grabbed the stick, quickly mimicking the array and placing his hands to its lines. Another snowman formed next to Sara's, dwarfing it in size. James stood up with an equally smug smile as Lizzie gasped even louder.

"Whooooa," she squealed again. "I wish I was an alchemist!"

James looked over at Sara to find his sister sticking her tongue out at him. She turned away quickly and began running in the opposite direction. "C'mon! Let's go!" she yelled excitedly.

"Okay!" Lizzie took off quickly after her, the snowman already long forgotten in her mind.

James struggled, between the snow and breathing in the cold air, to match his sister's pace.

He finally caught up with them when Sara came to an abrupt stop with Lizzie on her toes. "Guys, do you see that?" Sara exclaimed, pointing down the gully.

"It's just the Rain River," James pointed out. They played there all the time, especially on hot summer days. Come to think of it, he'd never seen it frozen over and covered in snow like this.

"Let's check it out!" Before anyone could respond, Sara was off again, running down the decline to the river's edge.

"Sara, wait!" Lizzie did her best to keep up, walking clumsily on her four-year-old legs down the slope.

James sighed, jogging after the two. By the time James made it to the river's edge, Sara was already tentatively walking atop the river's surface. "Sara!" he called, though she paid him no mind.

Lizzie seemed to be thinking the same thing as him however. She yelled out, "Sara! Don't fall in! Be careful!" She ran out onto the ice after her older friend.

Sara scoffed. James sighed with an eye roll and walked to where snow met ice. James was used to his sister's headstrong behavior and was about ready to run out on the ice himself and drag her back.

"It's fine," she said. "See?" To prove her point she smacked the heel of her boot against the ice once, twice, three times.

"Uhh…Sara?" Lizzie pointed.

Sara glanced down at the crack that had silently formed between their feet. "Oh," she said, her mind was unable to find any other words.

James swore under his breath and he ran out onto the ice without another thought. The crack deepened as he ran within an arm's length of them.

"James, stop moving!" Sara shrieked, holding out her palms.

"Why—"

Before he could finish his question, the ice snapped with a loud ice crack and the two girls plunged in. Without even thinking James reached out, grabbing Sara's arm and violently pulling her out. He cried out as a pain shot from his left shoulder. Sara let out a surprised scream and James gritted his teeth against the pain and the weight. He pulled his sister from the water, tossing her away from the hole in the ice. She slid on its smooth top and landed in the snow on the river's edge.

"James!" Sara shrieked. Never had he ever heard his sister's voice sound so terrified. But the ice was still cracking, moving toward his own feet. Without a second thought James turned on his heel and sprinted for solid land.

He crashed right into Sara, who was running in the opposite direction, toward the ice.

"What are you doing?" James shouted, holding her back.

"Lizzie!" she screamed. "We have to save her, James! She's dying!" Her shrieks were almost incoherent. "Let me go!" The words ripped form her throat as tears streamed down her red face. She punched James in the chest, trying to break free from his brother's hold.

James kept his grip strong. "I can't!" he squeezed his eyes shut. "The ice is too thin, if you go out there you'll fall in too!"

"_I don't care!"_ She thrust herself forward once more before realizing it was pointless. She slumped against James' arms. "What do we do?"

"Go get Mom and Dad and the Mustangs."

Sara turned around quietly after James let his arms fall back down at his sides. "What about you?" she said, the panic clear on her face.

"I-I'll stay here, in case anything happens."

Sara nodded shakily but James couldn't help but notice the way her teeth were beginning to chatter more violently. That's right, Sara had fallen into the water too. Her pants were soaked through. There was no way she'd be able to trudge through the snow by herself. She needed heat, and fast.

Sara seemed to be reading her brother's thoughts and her eyes glanced down to her shaking legs, and another shiver ran down her spine.

"We have to get you home," James proclaimed.

"But what about Lizzie?" Sara's voice rose and fresh tears grew in her watery eyes.

James stuttered. He wanted to scream. There was no right choice here. "We don't have time to argue, we have to get home and you can't go alone." Swiftly he turned around, and gesture to his back. "C'mon, I'm carrying you. We have to hurry! We have to get someone to save Lizzie! We can't do it by ourselves."

With a quivering lip she nodded and wrapped her arms firmly around her brother's shoulders as he lifted her up.

James trudged as quickly through the snow as he could manage. Much to his dismay, he couldn't run, not through that much snow, not with Sara on his back.

He was wheezing by the time their home was insight.

And by the time the two had burst through the front door, receiving shocked expressions from their parents and guests, Sara had been rendered once again by tears; James was struggling for breath.

Before anyone could begin asking questions, Sara retold the story, through sobs and chokes, to the horrified shrieks and gasps from the adults. As he watched them run out into the cold without the proper gear, James knew in that moment, everything was going to change, one way or another.

* * *

They had been sent to their rooms early in the evening. James sat on his bed in the now darkness of the night, head leaning against the cold wall, elbows resting on his knees. His shoulder still burned, but his mother had been able to make most of the pain go away amidst the commotion that had occurred today. She had come from a long line of doctors, but even she had no way to amend this tragedy.

The day had been busy, exhausting. Commotion still went on downstairs and it was killing James to not know what was going on. _He _had been the one there when Lizzie had…well…well, he should know what was happening now! He deserved to know!

He could hear his parents and the Mustangs talking to officials. They had been here for most of the night while many others, James knew, were down by the river still. James had been asked to explain what had happened not long after the officials had first arrived at the Elrics' house; they took notes in their little notebooks, nodding with serious expressions as James told them everything. After that he and Sara had been ordered to their rooms.

James found himself staring at the opposite wall even if he couldn't see it in the darkness, listening to the voices of the adults downstairs even though they were muffled and incomprehensible. He had been sitting like that for hours. The winter sun had set hours ago and James had grown accustomed to the darkness.

He couldn't even push himself to sneak downstairs and listen in; he would have done that in a heartbeat any other time. But James made no move. He just felt numb—had been numb for hours. Yet he still couldn't shake the coldness that had set into his bones. A shiver went down his spine and James grimaced. He thought he was going to be sick.

His door opened a crack, spilling in light from the hallway. James remained motionless as Sara's figure appeared at the threshold and timidly slipped in. She closed the door behind her and wordlessly crawled into her brother's bed.

"What's gonna happen now?" she asked, pulling herself into a blanket cocoon. Her voice was nothing more than a rasp from all the screaming and crying she had done before. She still shook slightly, whether from the nerves or maybe she felt the same unshakeable coldness James did, he didn't know. She snuggled into his shoulder even when James remained still.

"I don't know," he muttered.

Sara looked up at him hopelessly. While they were both smart, James had always been the strategist, he was always right. Sara was just too compulsive; she acted on her feelings, it was James, the calm and collected one, who used rationale.

"I'm scared," Sara blurted miserably, openly beginning to cry again. She brought the blanket up to her eyes, burying her face into its material. "Really scared. Mom and Dad won't tell me anything yet."

"They won't tell me anything either," James answered flatly. He hadn't exactly asked for answers though. He was afraid of what they'd say, afraid to face what had actually happened. "Don't cry, Sara," he said, knowing it was a useless thing to say. He wrapped his arm around his sister even as his shoulder cried out in pain, though he didn't know if anything he did would be able to bring her comfort.

"It should have been me," she admitted miserably.

"Don't say that!" he yelled, breaking from his numb disposition.

Sara recoiled, surprised by his sudden outburst. James had always been the quieter of the two; Sara yelling was nothing new, but when James raised his voice, the situation was certainly serious.

"It's not true," he muttered after catching the scared look in her glistening eyes.

"If…if I hadn't been playing on the ice…Lizzie…she wouldn't have gone out…she wouldn't, she wouldn't be _gone."_

James shook his head. "Don't blame yourself. I," he sighed. "I was the one who could have reached her. But I…I just didn't. It wasn't your fault, Sara…" _It was mine._

"No," she whispered almost inaudibly. She shook her head, looking up at her brother. "But you saved me." Fresh tears grew in her eyes.

"But I couldn't save Lizzie," James answered harshly. "Even though I had the chance to. I just, _I didn't think._ I could have grabbed both _but I didn't. _I…I wish I could tell her I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save her. That's all I want to say." He wasn't sure he could handle this much guilt. Would it stay with him the rest of his life? If he could somehow apologize to her, just so the words weren't boiling up with him until he exploded, he felt he might get something akin to closure.

They fell into a brittle silence. They listened to the commotion going on downstairs, not really hearing it. Sara nestled down further into the blankets before whispering into the blanket, "James...?"

Another minute passed in silence. James waited to see where she was going with this and Sara was working up the resolve to finally ask, "Have you ever heard of human transmutation?"

"Yeah…" he answered. Quickly he added, "Dad has a few books on it. Why?"

"Maybe…maybe there's a way to fix our mistake. Maybe you _could_ still tell her you're sorry."

"But Dad said to _never ever ever_ even _consider_ human transmutation," James answered, quoting one of his father's many rants on the subject.

Sara looked at her brother. Her eyes were wide, serious, and almost scary in the small bit of light coming in through the window. Her lips shook slightly as she whisper, "But what if we tried it, what's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

**[A/N: I'm sorry, I already know royai is a painful enough ship, and I just made it more tragic...]**


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